Spell of Pain
by animerival
Summary: Malik has just arrived in Japan, planning to spend a few months away from his homeland. The Millennium Items are gone, but as Malik discovers, his dark side isn't. If coexistence isn't possible, is mutual destruction the only other option? Post-canon bronzeshipping.
1. I Have to Protect You

_Spell of Pain (spell card): Transfer the damage sustained on this turn to another player._

**Chapter One: I _Have _to Protect You**

When Malik Ishtar climbed out of the taxi to emerge on the crowded, excited streets of Domino City, he felt overwhelmed. He gripped the handles of his luggage tightly as he looked around. People brushed past him, some giving his foreign appearance a lingering look, and he caught snatches of Japanese conversations in a dialect he wasn't too familiar with. The sun had set, but the streets were still bright from neon billboards, streetlamps, and lit storefronts. If Malik had ever wondered what the opposite of a musty, lonely tomb was, he knew now.

Keeping his head held high, he entered the apartment complex that was to be his new home. The owner, a middle-aged woman, welcomed him and gave him the key to Room 612. He ignored the elevator and carried his two bags up the six flights of stairs to the building's top floor. There were about a dozen rooms on the hallway; his was at the end, opposite the staircase. Malik shifted his bags to one hand and with the other, inserted the key into the lock. He found it wasn't necessary as the door creaked open, revealing a dark interior. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he returned the key to his pocket and tentatively stepped inside, finding a switch and flooding the room with fluorescent light.

When he saw the figure sitting on the leather couch in the middle of the room, an intense range of emotions flew through him. Disbelief: had he gone completely mad? Fear: how dangerous was this situation? Anger: would the past never let him be?

In front of him was the physical manifestation of his childhood pain, the Darkness of his heart incarnate, a person who wasn't a person but Malik's own twisted reflection. The Darkness looked at Malik with no expression. Blank violet eyes watched Malik step backwards as he considered running from the room. It was this apathy that disarmed Malik and made him finally question, "How are you here?" His hand slightly twitched as he considered rubbing his eyes. This had to be an illusion, brought about from the restless flight from Egypt.

The Darkness slowly smirked. "Go ahead and rub your eyes, Malik. It won't make me disappear. Even killing me didn't make me disappear, did it?" It laughed, a sound both hollow and sinister, before standing up.

They glared at each other, neither budging. Without blinking, Malik asked again in a hiss, _"How are you here?"_

"You told me where to come," the Darkness answered smoothly. "You told me all about moving from Egypt to Japan. I know you're planning on living here for a year. I know Rishid wouldn't leave your side for a week beforehand because even though you wouldn't admit it, you're terrified about living on your own. I also know that that demon's host- the white-haired one, Ryou, I believe- lives just a few doors down from here and that you're too pathetic to move to a foreign country without having _someone_ to rely on, even if that person is a former victim-"

"Shut up!" Malik shouted, throwing down his bag and slamming the door closed. "I've dealt with you before and I'll deal with you now."

"You did nothing. The _Pharaoh _destroyed me- or thought he did. But I can't be destroyed. Would you like to know why?"

"I'm not interested."

"You should be, because-" its mouth curved into a snarl- "it's the reason I won't kill you, now or in the future."

Malik hesitated. His knife was in the bag at his feet; if he was quick enough-

"You'll never reach it in time."

"What-"

"I'm part of your mind, Malik. All your thoughts and feelings are accessible to me."

Suddenly Malik felt very vulnerable. The Darkness was sifting through his mind; it was like he could feel its cold touch numbing him. If he couldn't get to his knife, then all he could do was listen to what the Darkness had to say. "…Fine. Why can't you be destroyed?"

The Darkness got a distant look in its eyes. "For a few months after Battle City, I existed nowhere, but I still existed. The judges of the afterlife found me and couldn't even feed me to Ammit, like they wanted to. As it turns out, as long as you're alive, I will be too. It makes sense, doesn't it? After all, I am you- the strongest part of you."

"You are nothing but my hatred," Malik said softly, voice colored with regret. "You should go back to whatever spirit form you were in, and leave me alone."

The Darkness shook its head. "I can't do that. When they realized I was here to stay, I was given my own body, with a condition. I have to fulfill the role I was originally born for. I have to protect you." Malik's eyes widened and he prepared to shoot down this terrible, terrible idea, but the Darkness silenced him with an icy gaze. "Do you really think I _want _to? You're pathetic. You disgust me. You needed me to do everything you couldn't, and then you thought you could just get rid of me when you decided to play the good guy. But it's _because _you're pathetic that I have to be here. If you die, I will too, and I have no interest in dying myself."

"I don't need your protection," Malik retorted. "If you're so happy about having your own body, go celebrate somewhere else, and leave me alone. I am fine without you."

"Oh Malik, that has never been true."

Malik opened the door and stepped to the side in one fluid movement. "Get out. Now."

The Darkness was unimpressed with his show of anger. "You'll never survive here without me," it taunted as it strode by Malik, coming much too close for his taste. Malik refused to back away this time, though, and when the Darkness was in the hallway, Malik shut the door, locked it, and checked the lock twice.

—-

Light knocking distracted Malik from his unpacking. There wasn't much of it to do; the apartment came fully-furnished, so he'd brought little more than clothes and a few personal belongings. It was taking some time, because he kept losing focus and thinking of his encounter with his Darkness. He wanted to believe it hadn't happened, and couldn't be sure it had; it was impossible to fully trust a mind that would split itself in two. Real or not, he wanted to forget it, so he was pleased to find the person at the door was Ryou.

Seeing Ryou at the Rite of the Duel between Atem and Yugi had been strange. The last time he'd seen him, he was working with the parasite within him and putting him in danger's way. He hadn't expected to be forgiven, but Ryou had been more than willing to give him a second chance.

Since the duel, which had been nearly a year ago, they had kept in touch with phone calls and emails. Both were awkward at making friends- it was an art neither had had a chance to master during their troubled lives. Still, Ryou was patient with his efforts, and Malik was grateful that someone existed that would forget the cruel things he'd done. Malik would never forget, but at least Ryou could pretend Malik hadn't used him as a tool for revenge. They'd met at some halfway point and were comfortable enough with each other that when Malik made the decision to live in Japan, Ryou had told him of the vacancy near his own apartment.

"Come in," Malik said to the teen who was wearing his typical blue-and-white striped t-shirt and jeans. Ryou smiled at him and stepped inside, folding his coat in his arms.

"I just got back from work," Ryou explained. "I thought I'd see if you were here yet, and wanted any help unpacking."

Malik shook his head. "I'm fine. I don't have much."

Ryou considered this and offered, "If that's the case, why don't I make us some tea? I'll be right back." He disappeared and Malik heard another door along the hall opening and closing. He pulled some clothes from a bag and was hanging them up when Ryou returned with two mugs of tea.

"You still have a semester of high school left," Malik pointed out. "Not to mention studying for your college entrance exams. How do you have time to work, too?"

"It's not a hard job," Ryou said brightly. "I work in a bookstore. It's quiet, so I can usually study some during my shifts."

"I see." They sipped their tea in silence for a minute. "Thanks again for getting me the job at your father's museum."

"You don't have to thank me. You read the curator's messages yourself- he's thrilled to have someone with firsthand knowledge of Egyptian culture working there. He'd probably offer you a permanent position, but-"

"This is only for one year," Malik replied firmly.

"You never said why, though." Ryou looked at him with imploring brown eyes, trying to understand what would bring someone so far across the globe.

Malik didn't see any reason to hide his motivation for moving, though the events of the evening seemed to have already rendered his objective moot already. Malik wanted to move forward in his life. He wanted to learn about what it meant to be normal. He couldn't do it under the shelter and protection of his siblings, so he'd decided to leave them for one year, to live in Japan, as it was the only other country he was familiar with, and to experience things. He hadn't expected the past to hunt him down so quickly and so mercilessly.

There was one more reason, but Malik would not voice it.

"I… needed a change."

Ryou didn't press him any further. It was getting late, so he picked up their empty mugs and prepared to leave. Right before Malik closed the door, however, he turned around and asked a question.

"Malik, is everything okay?" He scrutinized Malik's face, searching for clues to his unusually subdued mood.

Normally Malik couldn't be read by anyone- his face could become any mask he chose. He found that letting his guard down in front of Ryou was easy enough to happen without even meaning to. He corrected this with a convincing smile and said, "I'm just tired from the flight. I'll see you tomorrow, Ryou." Ryou nodded and Malik shut the door.

He did not sleep that night. He didn't think it would be worth the inevitable nightmares.

—-

The darkest alleys were still too bright for Malik's Darkness. He paced through them impatiently, vaguely missing the swish of a cape behind him. He'd been given the black muscle shirt, boots, and tan pants he'd adorned upon taking control of Malik's body, but the cape was long gone.

He growled and shot a hand out near a stack of molding boxes. A squirming rat squeaked imploringly in his grasp, gnawing on his fingers. He grinned savagely and squeezed tighter and tighter until bones crunched in his hand and the rat became forever silent. He tossed the carcass to the ground.

That had been a nice distraction, but it didn't solve the problem at hand. The problem, of course, was pathetic pathetic _Malik. _He didn't want to hang around and babysit him, but he didn't trust Malik to be able to take care of himself. Even when Malik hadn't realized it, he'd always depended on him. He'd drawn on his strength to become the leader of the Ghouls, to kill those who needed killing and to manipulate the rest heartlessly. If Malik got into trouble- yes, if he were killed, then the Darkness would fade to nothing as well. That would not do, now that he finally had a body of his own. Now that he did, he could- he could-

No goal manifested in his mind. He'd always using Malik's hatred and inner desires as a springboard for bloodshed and spreading darkness, and Malik didn't have so many negative emotions like in the past. Now, as he concentrated and reached out to Malik's mind, he found only anxiousness and guessed Malik was thinking of him.

He shook his head. It didn't matter what he ended up doing, as long as it spread some of the hatred he was born from. In the meantime, Malik would realize how lost he was on his own, and come begging him for help. He just needed a little patience.

—-

By noon the following day, Malik's apartment was in order, and he was sitting in the chair in the living room- not on the couch, that was what _it _had chosen- thumbing through some old cards. He hadn't planned on bringing any Duel Monsters cards to Japan with him, but when his bags were nearly empty, he'd started to regret the decision. The game was a therapeutic mental exercise to him. Rishid had anticipated his change of heart, it seemed, because there'd been a couple of decks at the very bottom of a bag.

He didn't have to begin work until the next day, so he spent some time forming a new deck. He decided to challenge Ryou to a game. It would be a normal game, with no shadow rules or dark magic, and the loser would not die. A normal game. A normal life.

This is what he repeated to himself as he tried to suppress the knowledge that his Darkness would not leave him alone for long.


	2. Our Crimes

**Chapter Two: Our Crimes**

It was Ryou's day off work. When school was over, he parted ways with Yugi and the rest of his group of friends, and walked at a leisurely pace back to his apartment. They didn't know Malik was in Japan, let alone Domino City. Ryou didn't mention anything about it either, figuring Malik would want to say something himself.

He was glad that Malik was living nearby now. No matter how friendly Yugi and the rest were, he found he could never enter their tight-knit group of friends as an equal. Maybe it was because they'd seen his body try to kill them too many times; maybe it was his own social ineptitude holding him back. He didn't have the same problems with Malik. Malik had used him before in order to get revenge, but he was truly sorry, so Ryou of course forgave him. As for social ineptitude- well, Malik was as charismastic as they came, but he made plenty of social blunders too, having been raised away from society. They formed an odd pair, but found solace in one another's company.

That was why Ryou happily called out to Malik when he saw him walking down the hallway their rooms were located on, inviting him to his room for some tea and maybe a Duel Monsters rematch. They'd played two games already in the three days since Malik had moved in, and both had won once.

Malik turned to him slowly, face expressionless. After a moment, he nodded, and followed Ryou into his room.

Ryou set his backpack down and looked Malik over. He was wearing a black shirt and tan pants rather than his typical lavender hoodie and black pants combo. "I see you've changed your outfit. You didn't think you had to do that because of your job, right? I'm sure what you wore before was fine."

The way Malik was staring at him with fathomless violet eyes made him a little uneasy. "This is more comfortable."

Ryou nodded and left Malik alone in the living room so he could prepare some tea. When he returned, Malik was shuffling a deck of cards. Ryou fetched his own and sat across from Malik. They cut each other's deck and began to duel.

/.../

Malik could not wait until the Egyptian exhibit was closed.

The one his sister Ishizu had been in charge of had ended months ago, but due to its immense popularity, they were showcasing another round of ancient Egyptian artifacts. Malik's current duties at the museum involved helping set up and arrange the various pieces of artwork as well as answer any questions patrons had about the exhibit. It was the latter duty that made him wish the exhibit had never been opened in the first place, even if its existence did help him land a job. They had such _stupid _questions, or were clueless about some fact he'd known since he was five.

Right now, there were several middle-schoolers crowded around a display case of ushabti. "This is so boring," one of them complained loudly, leaning his elbows onto the case.

"Careful," a girl answered, "you might get an Egyptian curse!" She laughed at her own joke.

Her friend shoved her playfully. "No one believes in that junk."

Malik was seething on the inside. His _life_ had been sacrificed to "that junk." Those kids didn't know what it was like to spend year after year in darkness, existing only for the sake of a long-dead king. Honestly, they probably couldn't tell the difference between a sphinx and a lynx.

He decided to take his break before he heard another asinine remark. He claimed a chair in the staff break room and was glad no one else was around. He pulled out his phone to text Ryou, since he was one of the few people who could calm his temper.

/.../

"This is boring, isn't it?" Malik asked Ryou.

"What do you mean?" Ryou responded, drawing a card. The game didn't seem too different than the first two they'd had, and Malik had seemed to enjoy himself well enough then.

"There are no real monsters... Just pictures on cards. The stakes are too low."

The nervous feeling in Ryou's chest increased. Something was very wrong with Malik. He kept saying such strange things, and his eyes were void of light. Ryou simply smiled and played a monster in defense mode. It was one of his favorite cards- come to think of it, it'd also been a favorite of the spirit that had lived within him before. Ryou was almost lost in his reminiscing of those troublesome days when he heard his phone notify him of a new text message. He started to reach for it when Malik stopped him.

The look of entertainment on Malik's face worried Ryou. Malik said, "Don't answer that. We're in the middle of a card game, aren't we?"

"I suppose..."

/.../

Malik tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, waiting for Ryou to reply. He closed his eyes and wondered what his friend was doing. What did normal people do in their spare time? But could Ryou be considered normal? He'd been haunted by the King of Thieves for most of his life. "Bakura..." Malik whispered the name almost inaudibly.

The door to the lounge opened. "Ah, Malik, there you are," the curator said. "Could you go down to the basement and sort through the new shipment of artifacts? I need all the boxes of things from the Middle Kingdom brought upstairs so the rest of the exhibit can be set up after closing time tonight."

"Fine." Malik tucked his cell phone back into his jacket's pocket and left the room for the basement. It was a large room that still managed to feel closed-in and musty. He turned on all the light switches and walked to the end of the room where the new boxes would be. Pulling the tape off one, he got started.

/.../

"...and your life points drop to zero."

Ryou sighed, conceding defeat. "Great game, Malik."

"Oh, it's not over."

"What?"

Malik explained as he reached into his back pocket, "The loser has to face his penalty." A wide smirk grew on his face as he revealed a shining silver knife.

Ryou jumped back, eyes widening. "Malik- what is _wrong _with you?" His foot connecting with something small and he looked down to see his phone flashing. He'd missed three messages- all from Malik. Ryou looked from the phone to whatever was standing in front of him, tensing up for a fight he doubted he could win against someone so much more muscular than him.

"You get it now, do you?" Malik sauntered towards him, licking his blade. "I'm not Malik. Not exactly. Now, bleed for me!" Malik raised the knife above his head- and suddenly stopped. Anger flashed in his eyes and he seemed to be concentrating on something. He lowered his hand and the knife clattered to the floor. Ryou turned to run away, but felt a strong hand clamp around his arm.

Ryou tried to jerk away, but Malik didn't even pay attention to his movement. He was muttering something. Finally he said aloud, "The museum where Malik works. Where is it?"

"I won't tell you that," Ryou retorted. Malik let him go anyway and rushed out of the apartment. Ryou stumbled back in surprise before catching his balance.

The museum. Malik. The _real _Malik- Ryou couldn't let the imposter hurt his friend. He grabbed his phone and dialed Malik's number as he ran towards the museum.

/.../

Malik stood still in the sudden darkness. Light was absent throughout the entire basement, and he was too far away from the staircase to find his way out in the dark. His muscles tensed up and his eyes opened wider, as though that would help him see.

He hated the dark more than anything. Hate- fear- his breathing quickened and he grew angry with himself for being so weak.

Just as _it _had said... Pathetic... Weak...

Still, he couldn't stop his pounding heart when memories relentlessly flashed through his mind. Whips and snakes and blood blood blood all in that _place _that _tomb _with the sun so far away-

Always so far away-

/.../

Ryou only caught up to the Malik impostor at the museum. He was hovering outside a door Ryou knew led to the basement, looking agitated.

"Stop it!" Ryou whispered furiously, trying to keep the attention of the museum patrons away from them.

"I don't have time for you now," Malik said, annoyed. He twisted the doorknob, but the door was locked and refused to budge.

"What are you?" Ryou wanted to know. "Are you- like _he _was?"

"I'm nothing like your parasite. I _am _Malik."

"You can't be," Ryou protested. "He sent me messages when you were dueling me. He's here, so you can't be him."

"Yes. He's here. Right behind this door." Malik was growing frustrated with examining the door for weak spots.

"I can open that," Ryou said. "I learned a few things from being that thief's host. But you have to tell me what you are."

"I already told you, there's no time for this. Malik might be in danger, so I have to save his ass."

Ryou was clearly torn; he didn't know if Malik was presently in danger, or if he would be only if this Malik got to him. The weight of the dropped knife in his pocket helped him make up his mind. He would open the door and go with this person to locate Malik, and if they did turn out to be dangerous, he would be the one armed.

He stepped forward and looked left and right to make sure no one was paying attention to them. He unlocked the door in just a few seconds, and as soon as he pulled it open, Malik swept passed him and into the basement. Ryou was startled to find the basement pitch-black. Someone must have turned the lights off and locked the door behind them. He flipped the switches back on and saw Malik across the room.

No. He saw _two _Maliks, nearly identical.

/.../

Malik felt a hand touch him and he flinched. "Who is it?" he asked harshly, and then the lights came on and he was able to see for himself. "What are _you _doing here?"

The Darkness was kneeling down, and Malik realized he'd sunk to the floor at some point. He quickly stood up, and his copy did the same.

"I don't know why I'm here," it said coldly. "I thought you were in trouble, but now I see you're still just a child who needs a nightlight."

"Shut the hell up," Malik hissed. "You think you're so much better than me. You aren't, though- you don't know how to do anything but hate and destroy. You're not strong, you're just an animal living by instinct."

"_Your _fucked-up instinct, isn't it? I'm what you wanted to be, but couldn't! Never forget that."

"How can I forget, when you won't die?"

A voice interrupted their argument. "Malik, what's going on?" Malik turned his head to see Ryou standing about ten feet away, looking completely confused. A knife was clutched in his left hand.

"Ryou..." Malik's voice softened for an instant. "You should get out of here."

"Why?" Ryou spoke with determination. "I know quite a bit about cruel doubles, you know. I want to help."

"This isn't the same, Ryou. And it's not your problem, so _go_."

It laughed, "He thinks I'm going to slit your throat the second he turns his back."

"Why wouldn't I think that?" Ryou challenged. "You already tried to kill me."

Malik's eyes widened in horror. "You tried to kill Ryou!?"

"You said it yourself," it grinned. "I live to hate and destroy. Just because I won't kill you doesn't mean your friend is safe."

"You can't do that."

"Are you going to stop me?" It leaned closer to him. "Because that sounds very amusing; please try."

A thought occurred to Malik. It had told him that Malik's death would mean its as well, but the opposite might not necessarily be true.

"You think so? You might be right. But do you really think you have a chance of killing me?"

"Give me that knife, Ryou," Malik said.

"I-" Ryou looked down at the knife and then at Malik's look of deadly calm. "Malik, I still don't know what's going on, but you aren't the killer you used to be, are you? Why do you want to kill him?"

"He should have never existed! He- _it _is just a remnant of my personality born seven years ago in the tomb. It killed my father, and I spent years trying to get revenge on the Pharaoh, who had nothing to do with it!"

"You think a remnant could seize control of your body, unlock Ra's full powers, and have the Millennium Rod's full powers under control? Face it, I'm much worthier of existence than you. I have my own body now, and it won't be taken away by either your death or mine."

"But do you really think you can just go around killing whoever you like? You don't have shadow powers anymore, do you? And how would you like it if I were arrested and executed for your crimes? We'd both die."

"My crimes have always been _our_ crimes, Malik..."

"You're wrong."

"Stop it, you two! Someone could come down here any minute. We're still in the museum, you know," Ryou pointed out.

"I can't leave. I'm working."

"You weren't working, you were falling apart," it muttered.

Before they began shouting at each other, Ryou placed himself between them. "I mean it. You two have to stop. I think I understand what's going on now. You two are going to have to coexist."

"You don't understand, Ryou," Malik objected. "It just-"

"Refer to me as 'it' again and we'll find out how close I can get to killing you without finishing the job," his darker half glared.

"You won't take my name away," Malik said.

Ryou suggested, "If you don't have a name of your own, how about, well, Mariku? It's similar to Malik, after all."

Neither looked thrilled at the suggestion. Mariku tilted his head and then shrugged. "Whatever."

"See?" Ryou said. "If both of you can calm down, we'll figure out some sort of compromise."

"How can I reason with him?" Malik spat out. "If he only wants to kill-"

"People change."

"I won't," Mariku assured them.

The door to the basement swung open. The curator stuck his head in. "Hey, how's the sorting going, Malik? Oh, Ryou, nice to see you here! And are you Malik's brother?"

Ryou quickly said, "We were just leaving, Yamamoto-san."

"No problem. It's always nice to see you, Ryou." He left, leaving the door cracked.

"I meant that," Ryou said. "Come on, Mariku. We're not going to get Malik fired."

"Aren't you afraid of me?" Mariku asked curiously. "I did intend to kill you, you know."

"You aren't the first threat I've faced," Ryou said quietly. "Come on."

Mariku gave him a strange look but began to follow. "See you later, Malik," he smirked.

"Never would be preferable," Malik snarled. "Ryou, don't get yourself killed."

"I won't," Ryou said firmly, and then they were gone.

/.../

/.../

**A/N: I wanted to post this chapter sooner, but I just didn't feel satisfied with it until I rewrote some of it. Hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner, but I can't promise that, as busy as college keeps me.**

**My icon for this story was brought up, so I thought I'd talk about it. My best friend drew it for me, and it's based on a panel in volume 19 of the manga, when Malik/Mariku first see their sister on the blimp. I love how it demonstrated how very torn Malik's psyche is, thanks to his fully-developed alter ego.**

**Thanks for reading, and please review.**


	3. You're Probably to Blame

**Chapter Three: You're Probably to Blame**

Despite Ryou's assurances to Malik, he knew he was in a dangerous position. Mariku had already tried to kill him once, and there was no guarantee that he wouldn't be murdered the second they entered his apartment. As Ryou unlocked his door, he asked, "Why did you want to kill me, Mariku?"

Mariku blinked at him, as though the answer were obvious. "The only thing I like is hurting people. That's how Malik made me."

"...You're his alternate personality." Ryou opened the door and Mariku barged past him.

He said over his shoulder, "I should have always been the main personality. Malik wanted to die because our Father hurt him so much, so he made me deal with the pain."

"That sounds difficult," Ryou commented.

"Of course it wasn't! Pay attention, Ryou. I thrive on pain. It's the ultimate indicator of life, and just like Malik wanted to die, I wanted to live."

"But- why do you hate Malik now?"

"Now?" Mariku scoffed. "I've always hated him."

"If that's true, why did you try to save him today, when you thought he was in danger?"

"Even though we both have our own bodies now, I can't let him die, for my own sake. I'm thirsty. Get me some water."

"Sink's in the kitchen," Ryou replied. "I invited you here so you and Malik can decide how you're going to live, not for you to intimidate me into doing what you want. I've had enough of being used for one lifetime." His eyes flashed with sudden, intense anger.

Mariku regarded the small, pale teenager staring defiantly back. With that expression, he looked remarkably like the spirit he claimed to hate; it was amusing, but also off-putting. Bakura had been a pain to deal with, and he'd even gone and sided with Malik against him, just as everyone did, forgetting that Malik's own depravity was what led to an existence that killed for his sake.

Apprently deciding he didn't actually care for water, Mariku leaned against the wall. "I'm curious. What makes you think I won't kill you right now?"

"Because now you know Malik and I are good friends. Hurting me would hurt him, and as much as I'm sure you'd enjoy that, are you going to risk pushing him over the edge? You would know his suicidal tendences better than anyone."

"...Aren't you manipulative. Is that something else you learned from Bakura?"

Ryou smiled sadly. "That's my name, as well. And maybe I had some of his traits all along. He had to have picked me for some reason." He sighed. "When I first realized you weren't Malik and considered the possibility that you were a spirit attached to him, I wondered if my own parasite would reappear. I'm glad that isn't the case."

"If he had, I would have sent him back to the darkness." A shadow crossed his face, and he clenched his hand. His right hand, where the Rod should have been. He sorely missed the power it had given him. He could've made sure Malik behaved with it; he could've played such fun games with Ryou. Being powerless felt detestable. Mariku quickly reminded himself that he wasn't powerless, though. Even without the Rod, he was a superior being. One the eternal judges of the Afterlife couldn't even harm.

Ryou told him, "I suppose you should make yourself at home. Malik should be off work in a couple of hours, and I have homework to take care of in the meantime." He left Mariku to his own devices, retreating to the sanctity of his bedroom. He checked his cell phone as he sat on the edge of his bed: five new texts, all from Malik, all asking if he were dead yet and a few throwing in some choice words about what Malik thought about Ryou being alone with Mariku.

Ryou thought it was strange. Mariku said he hated Malik, and Malik distrusted and scorned Mariku. Yet, they were two halves of one person. Or maybe that wasn't quite right, as they weren't opposites; they clearly had overlapping personality traits.

The sink came on in the kitchen. Mariku must have given into his thirst after all. Ryou remembered the drawer of utensils that was stocked with knives and hoped it wouldn't prove too much of a temptation, though he was convinced Mariku wouldn't kill him for the reason he'd given him.

_Relax and focus on your work. I'll be in one piece when you come back. _Done texting, he flipped his phone closed and fell back on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling's simple pattern, messy swirls of white paint. Even when his phone alerted him to a new text, he lay still, knowing he'd need a few quiet moments of peace before the inevitable storm.

/.../

Impatient knocking and the subsequent opening of a door got Ryou's attention. He slid aside his homework and ventured back to his living room to find Malik and Mariku glaring at each other once more. He sighed. Was compromise even possible in a situation like this? Ryou knew he couldn't have been convinced to live with his spirit, but as Mariku had said, this wasn't exactly like that.

They were conversing in murmurs, their voices almost identical, dark and velvety. Fearful of what they might be threatening each other with, Ryou cleared his throat and stepped up to them. "So, um, we need to figure out this living situation. And no more yelling!" he quickly added when they both opened their mouths.

Malik rolled his eyes and claimed a spot on the couch. "First, I have a question. How can you still tell what I'm thinking? You don't exist inside my mind anymore."

Mariku answered, "How should I know? You're probably to blame for that."

"And what does _that _mean?"

"You always poured your emotions into me. This afternoon, you were afraid, and that emotion pulled me to your location. Maybe if you didn't ask for my help, I wouldn't give it."

"You're lying," Malik retorted. "I didn't ask you for anything today. You should stop showing up unwanted."

"That's interesting, though..." Ryou's thoughtful voice made them both turn to him. "Might I suggest that you, Malik, might be able to do the same thing if you concentrated?"

"I don't want inside your mind," Malik muttered in Mariku's direction.

"That's fine," Ryou said, getting exhausted of their incessant arguing. "Now, I've been thinking about this situation, and here is a possible solution. Mariku refuses to be far away from you, Malik. But you won't let him stay with you, correct? So, what if he-"

"You better not say what I think you're going to," Malik interrupted. "I won't let him stay here."

"I like that idea," Mariku said, to both Malik and Ryou's surprise. "If we don't have to see each other, why are you complaining? Do you think if you protect Ryou now, it will make up for what you did before?" A cruel smile curled his lips. _"You_, not me. Letting his body be stabbed and then using it to fool Yugi's friends. Risking his very life in Bakura's duel against the Pharaoh. But what have _I _ever done to Ryou? I banished Bakura after our duel, but I've never actually hurt Ryou. Maybe _you're_ the one he should be afraid of."

Malik pressed his lips together, realizing he had no rebuttal. He had done many horrible things. Malik glanced as Ryou out of the corner of his eyes to see if he agreed with Mariku.

Ryou looked at the ground, remembering the terrible days of Battle City before insisting "I've already forgiven Malik." But the pain was still clear in his voice.

Guilt like Malik hadn't experienced since he almost caused Rishid's death swept over him. "I- Do whatever you want, you two!" Malik rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him and returning to his apartment.

/.../

Everything was warm, but the warmth felt unfriendly towards him. Malik's eyes fought to stay closed against the overwhelming light.

"Malik."

A voice that was vaguely familiar called out to him, and then again when he still didn't get up. Suddenly, Malik recognized the voice as the Pharaoh's. His eyes flew open and he shakily stood, looking around.

His surroundings were glowing white and faintly resembed an Eygptian landscape. About twenty feet away a figure was outlined by the light. Malik was torn, unsure of what to do. He should kneel to him, the Pharaoh, who'd saved his life despite what he'd done and whom he had been born to help. But hatred that had been his reason for living for so much of his life still trickled through his veins, and he couldn't take a subservient stance to the man he needed to despise.

"I won't speak long, Malik. But you need to listen to me."

Malik nodded, to let him know he was. It didn't appear he had a choice, anyway.

"You're avoiding your responsibilities."

He protested, "I've changed, Pharaoh. The Ghouls are disbanded and I'm trying to move on from the past."

"I know. That's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other half."

The warmth seemed to mock him even more as Malik shivered at the god-like man's words. "This isn't like you and Yugi. I never wanted him!"

"You did, Malik. You needed him so much you _made _him. You can't ignore that, or him now that he has his own body."

"And who's fault is that?" Malik cried.

Atem frowned. "We couldn't kill him without killing you. If you are to live, you must live alongside him."

"I never thought _you _would say that. He almost brought the world to an end."

"Because that is how you made him. I have to go now, Malik. You need to understand that like the scars on your back, your darker side will always be with you. You have to learn how to deal with this."

He was fading away. Malik reached for him, and then he was awake, in his own bed. Sweat covered his body and he realized he was breathing hard.

He kicked the covers away from him and cradled his head in one hand. Ryou had told him, and now the Pharaoh had told him. Mariku wasn't going to disappear just because he wanted him to. Malik said he'd changed, but he was still forcing his problems onto others. Ryou was already dealing with his mistakes because he wouldn't.

Malik remembered Ryou's suggestion that he could sense Mariku's thoughts and emotions as well. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, though he had no idea how to go about reaching out to Mariku. Mariku had existed for years without Malik's knowledge, after all.

He kept trying, picturing his dark reflection and the aura constantly emanating from him. It felt like a thread was forming, and as he traced it back to its origin, a jolt of feeling struck his heart.

He moaned aloud at the sheer intensity of the ball of emotions he'd stumbled upon: pain, hatred, rage, craving, power. The pain was the worst; Malik wanted to sever the connection he'd just found in order to avoid it, but stopped when he realized something.

_You always poured your emotions into me._

Everything he was feeling had belonged to him at one point; it had merely shifted to Mariku because Malik hadn't wanted to deal with it. Mariku had accepted every negative thought given to him.

And for the second time that day, Malik knew guilt.

/.../

/.../

**A/N: Not a lot happened this chapter, but it was a necessary bridge to everything that follows.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! I haven't gotten many reviews, but I've gotten really good ones. They keep me encouraged, so I would be most happy if you'd take a minute and tell me what you think of this chapter.**


	4. Have Some Poisoned Pancakes

**Chapter Four: Have Some Poisoned Pancakes**

It was unnerving how Mariku watched Ryou flit about the room, lacing his shoes and gathering his books for school. "Um, do you... need anything?" he asked uncertainly, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

Mariku had slept on the couch, from the looks of it. That is, half the cushions were on the floor and the stuffing was coming out of one. He was sitting on this ruined cushion, arms crossed. "I'm bored."

Ryou almost laughed, but decided not to risk irritating Mariku so early in the morning. "You're bored? Well, there are books in my room, and a television over there. There's a computer, too, but I don't know how well you could use that."

He didn't have time to see what Mariku did to solve his problem. He scurried out the door and found Malik standing in front of his room. "Ah, good morning. How are you?" From the dark circles under Malik's eyes and his sullen expression, he could have made an educated guess, but he knew it was best to pretend everything was okay when it came to Malik.

"Fine. And so are you. That's good."

"He didn't try to kill me even once last night!" Ryou announced brightly, holding up a finger and earning an eye-roll.

Malik replied, "Great. Have fun at school. Do you mind if I check on Mariku?"

"Of course not. You're always welcome there Spare key's in the dresser, if you need it." He waved and dashed off, inwardly pleased that Malik was taking an interest in Mariku's welfare. That, or Ryou would return to a blood-soaked apartment. Optimism was his preference, though.

/.../

Right as Malik opened the door to Ryou's room, a deafening roar erupted from the corner. Malik shut the door behind him and sighed when he saw Mariku crouched in front of the television, alternating between covering his ears and hitting every button on the set. He strolled over and pressed the one on the end, effectively shutting it off. "Can you do _anything _that doesn't involve trying to end the world?"

Mariku scowled, "Like you know so much about technology. You can't use a computer-thing either!"

"This is a television. And what did you do to Ryou's couch? What kind of guest are you?"

Mariku just snorted. "You sound like our sister."

Malik felt a pang in his chest at the mention of Ishizu. It didn't go unnoticed by Mariku. "If you miss her, why not go back to Egypt?" he pointed out.

"I definitely can't go back _now. _You'll follow me and try to kill Rishid again. And anyway, I- I don't want to go back."

"Why do you still think you can lie to me?" Mariku stretched out on the floor, smirking up at Malik. "You're so, so homesick."

Malik said, "Since you're so good at reading me, why don't you just figure out on your own why I'm not going back?"

Mariku closed his eyes. "I could, if I were still in your mind. The more you don't want to think of something, the further you push it away from your consciousness, which meant those thoughts came right to me back then. But now, you're hiding it quite well, whether you mean to or not."

At least Malik now knew he wasn't completely an open book to Mariku. Feeling a little relieved, he remembered why he had come over in the first place; he had to make an effort to be civil to Mariku or risk having another dream in which the Pharaoh criticized him. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Hungry for killing," Mariku promptly answered. "And my stomach does feel weird. Does that mean I'm hungry? I didn't have control of our body long enough at Battle City to really figure that out."

"You're hopeless." Malik ran a hand through his hair and sighed again. "Let's go eat breakfast somewhere."

"Together? Looks like you're already warming up to me, precious Malik," he grinned.

Malik chose to ignore that ludicrous statement. He threw an extra jacket at Mariku and led the way out of Ryou's room, locking it with the extra key Ryou had told him about. Both of them glanced at the elevator as they neared it. "This would be faster than the stairs," Mariku said, jabbing the down button.

"Have you heard it creaking?" Malik grumbled. "Stairs are safer." Mariku was unconvinced, and when the doors opened he pulled Malik inside.

Malik stayed in one corner, looking at the wall. He hated elevators. They were cramped spaces that more often than not had to be shared with bothersome strangers. This one was especially unappealing, with its dim lights and stained carpet. "You chose to live here," Mariku reminded him when he saw his sour expression.

"I wish Ryou hadn't."

The elevator safely arrived at the ground floor. Malik led the way to a cafe only a few blocks away. Ryou had mentioned it, so he thought he'd give it a try; his friend's food recommendations rarely failed to please.

There were a few booths lining one wall inside, each beside a huge window overlooking the street. They sat across from each other as a waitress came to take their order, notepad in hand. "Coffee and-" Malik skimmed over the menu's lists of sweets. "A blueberry muffin."

"And for you?" she asked Mariku. He looked from her to the menu to Malik. He _really _didn't want to get the same thing, for no other reason than Malik had ordered it, so he just pointed to something and asked for water to drink.

They sat in silence until their food was brought. A plate of pancakes and a small steel jar was set in front of Mariku. "The pancakes are our specialty!" she assured him. She looked back and forth between the two and smiled. "You know, I'm a twin myself. I-"

"We're not twins," Mariku interrupted.

Malik added, "We're trying to eat."

"Oh, right. Excuse me." Looking miffed, she made her way back to the kitchen.

Mariku picked up the jar and looked inside it. It was full of a dark red substance he guessed was supposed to go on his pancakes, since it didn't look like a drink. After he dumped it over them, Malik grabbed his wrist. He instantly bared his teeth at him and Malik let go. He explained, "Those are strawberries. I'm allergic, so..."

"So you think I am too."

"Why wouldn't you be? We're-" He broke off and looked away. He still didn't want to admit that they were the same person. "Here, just have half of mine." He nudged the plate with his muffin on it towards Mariku.

The window made a good distraction for the next few minutes, as Malik listened to Mariku eat and occasionally sipped his coffee. When he finally looked back to Mariku, he felt a wave of uneasiness. Not because he was doing anything wrong, but because he looked so normal. He was chewing on the muffin, looking satisfied at the flavor. The seemingly impossible situation that had been thrust on Malik when he first arrived in Domino was still sinking in, but this image solidified it. Mariku was back for good, the Pharaoh was pissed that Malik wanted to deny this truth, and Malik felt like he had enough problems to deal with without having to put up with Mariku too. But he realized didn't have a choice. And at the very least, he wasn't alone; Ryou was going to be there to help.

"Don't eat it all," Malik suddenly said, reaching a fork over. Mariku childishly turned away, stuffing a bigger bite into his mouth. "Dammit, give me some!"

"Have some poisoned pancakes," Mariku taunted, finishing off the muffin.

Fingers gripping the handle of his mug, Malik threatened, "This coffee is still hot enough to give a nasty burn."

"Using that tactic again? How boring."

Malik frowned momentarily, trying to remember when he'd done anything like that before. Nothing came to mind, so he reached for that fragile thread bonding him to Mariku. Mariku made a small sound of discomfort when he realized Malik was peering into his thoughts, which Malik felt served him right. Inside his mind, Malik saw himself in a royal purple cloak, Rishid standing at his side. Across from him sat a man in a business suit, who Malik recognized as one of the people he'd stolen rare cards from. The man was refusing Malik's offers, so he pulled out the Rod and seized control of his mind. Soon, the man was pouring his own scalding drink over his left hand, and through his screams, he agreed to give Malik whatever he wanted.

His appetite was gone again. "You were terrible enough without me," Mariku said. "I just took things one step further."

/.../

"Going to work?"

They were back at the complex, this time in Malik's apartment. He had fewer valuable things than Ryou, so he thought it was better to have Mariku there, at least during the day.

"Yes. I don't see why you looked disappointed."

"There's nothing to do here," Mariku complained.

Malik wanted to snap at him to get a hobby, but he didn't think Mariku could find something normal to do on his own. He said, "I have an idea. Wait a second." He pulled out his phone and texted Ryou. A few minutes later he got a response and nodded. "Be right back."

He retrieved a rectangular device from Ryou's room and showed it to Mariku. "It's to play video games on. And..." He turned the case in his left hand over. "'Fantasy violence.' That should keep you entertained. Just read the booklet for instructions on how to play." He tossed the case and the console to Mariku and left for work.

Mariku looked at the case for a few minutes. There were several characters drawn on the cover: a guy wielding a sword, a girl with barely any clothing, and a winged fox with sharp claws. He vaguely knew what video games were, but Malik had never shown any interest in them, so he didn't know how they worked. Anyway, it seemed unlikely that a tiny square game could be fun without shadow game rules or real people in danger.

All the same, he slid the game into the console and pressed the button labeled "power." There were lots of buttons on the right and Mariku opened the booklet to see what they did. There were five or six pages on their general use and then many more on how this specific game worked. He threw the booklet aside, deciding to wing it.

Hours passed as he vanquished cartoon dragons and chased a traitor magician through an entire kingdom. He barely noticed when Ryou showed up and asked him to come back over to his room, where he claimed the couch again. One battle proved too much- his character's hit points reached zero and the screen proclaimed "GAME OVER" in a gothic font. "Stupid fucking game," he growled, letting the console go. Ryou appeared in front of him, smiling.

"You must have liked it to play it so long, though. I'm glad!"

"There was nothing else to do. Are _you_ going to work too?"

Ryou laughed, "Yes. Sorry, but I need this job. If you're really bored, why don't you get a job too? Then you could help Malik pay for food and rent."

"Why would I want to help him?"

Ryou shrugged. "You have before, haven't you? Oh, right, I brought you something." He held out a small black phone. "This is my old cell phone. It doesn't work great, but if you need to talk to me or Malik when we're gone, you can use this. Well, see you later!"

/.../

It was ten minutes until Malik's shift was over, but he had already stopped working, leaning against the lounge room wall and texting Ryou, who was on his way to work. A beep told him he had a message waiting, but nothing had popped up from Ryou. He wondered if Rishid or Ishizu had sent him a message, but when he checked the new text, it was from an unknown number.

_Malikk brigng food_

He squinted at it before exhaling in annoyance. It must have been from Mariku. "Better at me than everything, are you?" he muttered. "Can't even text properly..."

He sent back, _One bowl of strawberries coming right up. _After five minutes, he finally got a short reply.

_i will Feed them to yu_

Somehow, seeing the threat typed so ridiculously made him laugh aloud. This was Mariku, the sum of his savage instincts, but without the Rod and with the promise that he wouldn't kill Malik, he didn't seem so frightening anymore. Malik always welcomed having less to fear.

As he picked up a blueberry smoothie and a sandwich on his way home, he muttered under his breath, "So how am I doing, Pharaoh?"

/.../

/.../

**A/N: The chapter in which things seemed to have calmed down! Which of course means next chapter will be full of drama. I have it outlined, so maybe it will be a Christmas present to my readers.**

**And maybe a review could be MY early Christmas present? :)**


	5. You and Who?

**Chapter Five: You and Who?**

"He _really _likes those, huh?" Malik chuckled, leaning his elbows on the table. Ryou passed him the beer bottle they were sharing and he took another drink. It was chilled but still burned pleasantly. He handed it back and Ryou took a few sips.

They were watching Mariku through the kitchen's cracked door. He was sprawled on the couch, engrossed in the same video game that had stumped him all week. Malik was relieved he'd found something to do other than pester him or Ryou, but he didn't really understand the appeal of gaming. It was something he wasn't familiar with, any sort of technological entertainment foreign to him until only a few years ago, and he doubted he'd be any good at it. He wondered if that meant Mariku wouldn't be either, but maybe he should have been asking these questions before his fifth bottle.

Not long after, Ryou opened a new bottle and Malik proposed a toast with his half-full one. "To conquering our darkness," he said. Ryou smiled and clinked their bottles together before both took a swig.

Ryou said, "I'm really glad you moved to Japan, Malik. It's nice to have a real friend." Malik figured the alcohol was why Ryou was opening up, but whatever the reason, he was glad to hear that. By all accounts, Ryou should've hate him, but instead he'd accepted him. It didn't fill the hole leaving Rishid and Ishizu behind had left, but it helped.

"Speaking of friends, do you ever hang out with Yugi and the others?" Malik traced the rim of the bottle as he pictured the faces of the Japanese teens he'd tried to kill on multiple occasions. He never heard Ryou speak of them and secretly he hoped he'd broken away from them, so he was pleased when Ryou shook his head. It was selfish, but Malik thought any of them would be better friendship candidates for Ryou than he was and he didn't want to be replaced. And even though he'd helped the Pharaoh in the end, he doubted he'd ever come to like Yugi or the others. They were from a different world than he was. Ryou was too, but his experiences with the spirit of the Ring had made him more empathetic to his situation.

As Malik finished his bottle, he thought about the spirit, who he'd known as Bakura. Bakura had been fierce, stubborn, cunning, shrewd; Malik would never admit it aloud, but he thought it was a shame he'd met his demise at the Pharaoh's hands. From what he'd heard from Ryou, his plan had been brilliant, and brilliantly executed. Malik could just see Bakura sitting at the head of the diorama, arms crossed and eyes flashing with pride. He'd wrap those strong, pale fingers around an hourglass and flip it over while laughing callously. From head to toe he'd exude determination and antagonism.

Compared to Bakura, Ryou looked so much _softer. _He had strength and determination like Bakura, but his was demonstrated in subtler, kinder ways. Ryou raised the bottle to his lips and savored each drink; Bakura'd tip the bottle up and down it in one go, barely tasting the flavor. For a split-second, Malik missed Bakura, the one who'd been almost a kindred spirit to him.

He banished those thoughts when Ryou spoke up. "To be honest, they were never my friends. They could never see me as Ryou, no matter how hard they tried. I guess I can't really blame them. Their first visit to my house almost ended in their deaths at the spirit's hands, hands they thought were my own. Well, they are my own, but-" He frowned, trying to make his tongue behave as his mind grew fuzzier.

Malik laughed and took the bottle from Ryou. "Have you had enough?" he teased.

"No, give it back!" Ryou answered, reaching for his drink. They fought for a few seconds and Ryou won when he got the great idea to climb over Malik to reach it. When his hand closed around the bottle in victory, he realized he was more or less sitting in Malik's lap, legs draped over the sides of the chair. He blushed and pulled back, but Malik placed a hand on either side of him, cutting off his escape.

Ryou stilled and looked at Malik. He couldn't tell what his friend was thinking, no matter how he scrutinized those gleaming violet eyes. Malik's lips were almost a straight line, but one side turned up slightly, in amusement or happiness Ryou couldn't tell. Their closeness and the effects of drinking all evening made Ryou feel overly warm. He was going to say something about needing to get up, maybe get a water instead of more beer, but he found he didn't want to move. _Don't do this, _his mind warned. _God, yes, do this, _every other part of him cheered. Majority vote won, and Ryou kissed him.

Though he started out tentatively, Malik's powerful response encouraged him to grip the other's blonde hair tightly and press their lips together harder. No amount of intoxication could stop Ryou from noticing how talented a kisser Malik was. It was like a dance, an exotic, rhythmic dance that led Ryou to euphoria.

Undiluted pleasure flooded Mariku's brain, causing him to press the wrong sequence of buttons and lose his last life. He dropped the console and closed his eyes, more confused than anything as another wave of lust swept over him. When he tried to tune into Malik's thoughts, it was only emotion that traveled their mind link. Mariku turned to look into the kitchen, but the door was angled in such a way that he couldn't see what Malik was up to. Images came to him then of Ryou's flushed face, his soft brown eyes half-lidded, and Mariku almost felt fingers tugging on his own hair.

He was becoming as aroused as Malik was, to his disgust. His breathing grew heavy as Malik unwittingly conveyed his thoughts across their link. _Ah., yes... Bakura... _Now what Mariku saw was that spirit's face, sharp and shadowed.

It wasn't often that Malik could suprise him, but this must have been something Malik had suppressed and hidden, perhaps from them both. But Mariku'd abhorred Bakura, so he entered the kitchen, pushing the door into the wall with a loud bang. Ryou jumped backwards, gracelessly falling off Malik's lap, and even Malik looked caught off-guard. A couple of choice curses soared through their mind link, making Mariku grin.

Ryou regained his footing, leaning against the table for help. Malik threatend, "Go play your game, Mariku. We're _busy._"

"You and... who?" he asked in a voice that impossibly mixed innocence and malice.

Malik's expression darkened as he understood what Mariku was implying, but he was too late to keep him from spelling it out to Ryou.

Mariku said, "You weren't even thinking of Ryou." Ryou's head snapped up and he looked confused. "You were thinking of-"

_"Shut up!"_

"Bakura."

Malik lunged at him, digging his fingers into Mariku's neck. Mariku retaliated with a kick, causing Malik to bend double and allowing Mariku to get another punch in.

Ryou cried out, "Stop it! Stop hurting each other!" But when he tried to separate them, he was flung back against the table.

Mariku had the upper hand before long, pinning Malik to the ground and sitting on his chest. He ripped off Malik's neckbands and squeezed his throat, cackling as his savage instincts reawakened full force. Malik, unable to free himself, glared up at his attacker for a moment- and then he stopped struggling and closed his eyes. As he watched, Malik began to smile.

Twisted gratitude came through the mind link. _Kill me, Mariku. I'm too much of a coward to do it myself... And you always grant my darkest wishes, don't you? Just like with Father..._

Mariku stared down at Malik, who'd stopped breathing. And then he remembered that if Malik died, he would too, and he let go.

/.../

The following afternoon Ryou woke up late, took some aspirin for his headache, and went to Malik's apartment to check on him. Apparently Mariku hadn't remembered to lock the door behind him after carrying Malik back there the previous night, so Ryou was able to get inside without knocking. He found them both in the bedroom, where Malik was sleeping. A ring of black and blue circled his neck. Mariku was sitting in a chair in the corner, and Ryou couldn't tell what he'd been doing before he got there.

Mariku didn't seem phased by his appearance, but he also didn't look like he was in the mood to talk. Ryou frankly didn't care. He was sporting several bruises himself from being thrown into the table, and what was much worse was Malik's betrayal. _Bakura. Bakura, Bakura._

"Has he woken up?" Ryou asked tonelessly. Mariku shook his head.

"Doesn't he work today?" Mariku recalled. "There's no way..."

"He definitely can't. When he wakes up, tell him not to worry. I'll call the museum and request he gets the day off."

Mariku nodded, and Ryou took that as his cue to leave. When he got to the hallway, he pulled out his cellphone and dialed a couple of numbers before sighing and sliding it back into his pocket. Malik had betrayed him. Malik was like the others, who saw the spirit "Bakura" before Ryou himself. He could get fired; it would be well-deserved.

At five o' clock, Malik awoke. His muscles felt stiff and his throat ached. Touching a hand to it made him wince. He noticed Mariku sitting in his room and tried to yell at him to leave, but his voice wasn't working properly. A glance in the mirror reminded him of everything that had happened yesterday: the kiss, the fight, and wanting to die. Almost getting what he wanted.

"You had interesting dreams last night, Malik." Mariku's eyes gazed past him, unfocused. "So that's what you were hiding from me."

Malik managed to rasp out, "What are you talking about?"

"Stop pretending not to know, _coward. _That's the word you used yourself, isn't it?" Malik looked down, remembering his plea. "I know why you left Egypt. The reason replayed itself a hundred times in your dreams. How you went home after Battle City with Ishizu and Rishid, and how you three tried to deal with the end of three-thousand years of cult activity. A lot of the Ishtars weren't pleased with having their lifestyle destroyed. But you were happy that it was going to end."

Malik turned away from Mariku, who went on, "Still, it wasn't easy to go back to the old tomb and be plunged into darkness again, however temporary you knew it would be. Your nightmares came back. You didn't know what to do; for the last five years, chasing the Pharaoh had kept you busy, but now all the despair you'd held since childhood threatened to overcome you. It _did _overcome you. I'm not surprised you used poison. You'd never cut yourself, and a gun would leave such a gruesome wound... Poison was the most painless way to go."

Malik began to shake. "By sheer luck, Rishid found you in time. After that, Ishizu and Rishid both watched you like hawks, until Ishizu decided it would be best to leave the country so you could recover. But you hated yourself even more for fucking up their lives again, so you said you'd leave on your own. Demanded it, actually, and they finally agreed when you said you'd move in by Ryou."

Mariku finished recounting and narrowed his eyes. "That's everything your dreams told me. But- dammit, _why? _I know you want to die, you've always wanted to die, you just settled for making me instead. But how can you want to die? Why do you have to be so _weak?_"

Malik relived those last days in Egypt and could almost taste that foul poison filling his mouth. "Why? I wish I knew." He hated the world; he hated himself. And last night, for the second time, he'd almost escaped both.

But if Mariku wanted to live, if that was _his _greatest desire, it was proof enough that not all of him wanted to die. Some part of him believed he deserved to be in this world; some part of him hoped.

"Listen, if you ever try to kill yourself again, I'll-"

"What can you possibly threaten?" Malik asked. "If you can't kill me, what, you'll hurt me instead? Unless you watch me twenty-four hours a day, you can't stop me."

Mariku knew that was true. Malik was resourceful, there was no denying that. If he decided to end his life and succeeded, he would be murdering Mariku in that same moment.

Those thoughts made their way to Malik's mind. "You'd deserve to die, anyway. You just had to tell Ryou what I was thinking! Ryou is my friend, but he'll probably never believe that now."

"I was only telling the truth. You're in the wrong- you shouldn't have been thinking of the spirit."

"It was stupid," Malik said. "There was nothing between the spirit and me-"

"Then you should explain some of the other dreams I've seen in your head," Mariku muttered.

"Be quiet. I can't control my dreams."

"Then what? You actually like Ryou?"

"As I said, he's my friend. We just drank way too much." Malik finally checked the time and cursed. "My shift's halfway over. I have to-" He looked at the mirror again, wondering how well his neckbands could hide the bruises.

"Forget it, Ryou said he'd cover for you."

"He did? I wouldn't expect that, after last night. I'll have to apologize..." He said the word with distaste; the only people he ever really apologized to were his siblings, and that rarely, so saying sorry wasn't something he was well-versed in.

Maybe it was the near-death experience or maybe it was too many sleepless nights since coming to Japan, but Malik soon drifted off. Now that Mariku had spoken with him, he left the room, deciding to find something to eat. Unfortunately, Malik didn't have much in his refrigerator, and none of it was pre-cooked. He decided to check out Ryou's apartment, taking the spare key in case he wasn't home.

He didn't have to use it, as Ryou opened the door after a few loud knocks. "What is it, Mariku?" He sounded tired, even irritated.

"I'm hungry."

Ryou sighed and let him in. Mariku helped himself to a sandwich and was on his way out when Ryou asked, "Surely he's woken up by now?"

"Yeah, but then he fell back asleep. He's never been so lazy in his life," Mariku snickered. "Oh, you know, he said he was sorry about last night. So you don't have to hate him."

"Why are _you_ telling me this?" Ryou asked in a voice that suggested he was in no way ready to forgive.

"Because he already hates himself enough for the both of you, trust me." He took a bite of his sandwich and left. That was as far as his generosity went; Malik and Ryou could work things out on their own.

/.../

**A/N: I turned Mariku into a gamer. I myself have no idea how that happened.**

**These scenes I had planned out basically from the start. Malik's suicidal nature is such a huge part of his character that I doubt I could write a chapter fic about him and not explore it. Ah, everything's in a mess now, isn't it? Ryou's angry, Malik's in turmoil, and Mariku is Mariku. Things aren't going to lighten up any time soon...**

**One final note. Despite the inclusion of angstshipping (and in a sense, thiefshipping), this is a bronzeshipping story focusing on Malik and Mariku's relationship. Unfortunately, such a story could never be straightforward and simple.**

**Thank you for reading, and please take a moment to review. Both encouragement and concrit make my day.**


	6. Vain as You Are

**Chapter Six: Vain as You Are**

Malik woke up when the shower switched on. Water pounded against the wall dividing his bedroom from the apartment's sole bathroom as he fumbled for his clock. He felt that grogginess that came with oversleeping, so he wasn't surprised that it was almost noon. _I have work at two… Damn._

A reexamination of his neck in the mirror revealed that the bruises were strikingly visible, but if he got creative with his jewelry, he thought he could avoid questions. He didn't want to think about them, let alone explain them, because they led his mind to his fight with Mariku and their talk afterwards. Remembering why he left Egypt hurt more than the bruises, especially now that it seemed he'd traded his siblings for the company of his darker half. _At least I have Ryou. Or at least, I did._

He read while waiting for Mariku to finish showering. Malik learned that he was irritatingly slow and thought half a shampoo bottle was the appropriate amount for his hair. The lavender scent of Malik's favorite shampoo brand filtered under the door, mixed with a cloud of steam. Apparently Mariku preferred his water scalding, whereas Malik liked it cold.

Just when he was about to demand Mariku hurry up- which might have caused him to take twice as long- the water shut off. Malik reshelved his book right as his door burst open. There stood Mariku, naked and dripping.

"Wha- get out!" Malik said, instinctively averting his eyes.

"But the clothes are in here."

"Who said you can wear my things?"

"Mine are dirty."

"That's just now bothering you?" Malik scowled when he heard Mariku fumbling through his dresser.

"We have the same body, you know. You can't act embarrassed, vain as you are-"

The rest of his nonsense was cut off when Malik slammed the bathroom door and turned the shower knobs. "He's like a child," Malik muttered into the freezing fall of water. He quickly scrubbed his body and washed his hair. Back in his room, he eyed with distaste the now-disorderly drawer of clothes he didn't have time to fix.

After getting dressed, he dropped some coins on the living room table on his way out. "Go find food, if you get hungry." The only response was the obnoxious sound effects that told him Mariku was back to his game.

The day went from bad to worse when he was reprimanded for being late. "And furthermore," the curator said, "you missed your shift yesterday without explanation. You're a friend of Ryou's, so we can overlook it this time. But any future infractions and we'll have to fire you."

Malik recalled Mariku telling him Ryou was going to cover for him. One of them must have lied, and for once, he didn't automatically suspect his other half. It seemed Ryou wasn't going to let go of the incident with the kiss that easily.

/…/

_You were stupid for trusting._

"What're you thinking about, Ryou?"

Ryou jumped, the appearance of his classmates catching him off-guard. He'd been eating alone in the far corner of the cafeteria, too lost in thought to pay attention to those around him. When he looked up, he saw Jonouchi and Honda standing by his table. Jonouchi repeated his question now that he had Ryou's attention.

"Oh, nothing. Um, how are you two?" he asked.

"Don't change the question!" Jonouchi peered closer at him before a grinning widely. "No, I know the look I saw on your face earlier. You had it all last week too. I told Honda, but he didn't believe me." He nudged Honda, who looked uncomfortable.

"Not to doubt your instincts, Jonouchi, but-"

"Nope, nope, I'm right about this." He pointed dramatically at Ryou. "_You're in love._"

When Ryou colored, he beamed in victory at Honda, who just rolled his eyes. "So, who is it?"

"You're wrong," Ryou said. "There's no one." _Is no one, was no one, will be no one._

Jonouchi frowned at him. "Is whoever it is giving you a hard time? You look kinda sad, actually. Oh!" His eyes widened. "Did you get turned down? I'm sorry, man."

"Jonouchi," Honda warned, "I think you should stop butting in."

_"There's no one," _Ryou said, then winced at the force of his own words. "So please, I'd like to finish my lunch in peace."

Even Jonouchi knew he'd gone too far. "Ah, okay, sure. See ya around." He waved awkwardly and left with Honda, who tossed him another sympathetic smile and a bit of advice.

"He's an idiot, ignore him."

_Always ignored._

Rejection sometimes felt like the theme of Ryou's life. He'd been rejected and he'd had to reject others, all because of the spirit of the Ring. The spirit had told him he would never have true friends, that he'd always be alone save for that dark murmuring in his head. Now the spirit was gone, and just when things were looking up, he'd been betrayed.

Love? No, it had been just a hint of a crush magnified by alcohol. Friendship was what he'd sought in Malik, but maybe he'd been too quick to trust him. Furthermore, Malik was bound to be furious when he found out his absence at work hadn't been excused.

_Should I even care? _Ryou wondered. _Am I… desperate? Surely I could find a better friend than one that nearly killed me before._

Even without the mocking laughter that once accompanied his lonely thoughts, Ryou knew he was lying to himself; he needed Malik. Still, feelings of betrayal kept stabbing at his chest like icy needles, like the points of a long-gone artifact that would always feel heavy around his neck.

/…/

It was time to face his friend. Ryou hadn't been home long when he heard a knock at his door. He opened it and spoke, looking at the ground. "Listen, Malik, about the museum-"

"Wrong person," Mariku said.

Ryou raised his head and tilted his head in confusion. "Huh?" The person in front of him wore a lavender midriff with black pants and his hair hung straight down. After scrutinizing his face, Ryou decided those eyes were a hint darker than Malik's.

"Mariku, why are you wearing Malik's clothes?"

"We're the same person, that makes them my clothes."

"Fuck your logic," Malik grumbled, appearing next to Mariku. "I wish Ryou weren't so much smaller, then you could have his clothes instead." He stopped glaring at Mariku and turned to Ryou, his expression softening. "…So can we come in?"

Ryou stepped aside. When they were seated in the living room, Malik said, "I'm sorry, Ryou, for the other night."

"Maybe we should make a rule," Ryou replied. "No apologies for whatever happens after- how many beers did we drink?"

That earned a laugh from Malik. "As many as my advance bought. Though actually, I think such a rule would prove useless. That was enough drinking for a lifetime. Why do people _like _something that messes with their mind? None of my puppets certainly did."

"People are contradictions."

"Hey, if there's not going to be a fight, I'm out of here," Mariku said.

"The airport's just west of here," Malik offered.

"Ugh, planes."

"What?" Malik looked surprised. "How can you dislike planes? You've never been on one- oh, but I have," he finished, realizing Mariku had drawn on his own feelings about the horrid contraptions. He'd take boats over planes any day, regardless of how much slower they were.

"I think planes are kind of fun, actually," Ryou admitted.

"If I'm going to fly, it'll be on Ra's back," Mariku said before making good on his threat to leave.

Ryou shook his head. "Did he really want to see a fight?"

"I think so. I'm worried he's going to go start one soon, actually. He's getting kind of stir-crazy, and there are only so many distractions I can think up with no time or money." Malik looked so troubled all of a sudden that Ryou wondered how he could hold a mistaken kiss against him. It was surely more than enough to feel pre-emptive guilt for whatever havoc Mariku might cause.

_"He already hates himself." _So Mariku had told Ryou. He'd left the darkness of his underground home, but darkness still existed within him.

_I'll do my best to help, Malik, _Ryou vowed. _I'll help you find a sun to light your path._

"Ryou, you're spacing out. What is it?"

"Oh, nothing."

/…/

Night smothered him. Malik knew it wasn't any darker than usual; the curtains were swept to the side, letting the full moon illuminate his room, and his clock emitted a soft blue glow from the bedside table. All the same, the shadows seemed fuller that night, tangible and ready to pounce.

He couldn't sleep, but he fought the urge to turn the light on. That was something only little kids did. He'd made Rishid stop lighting a lantern for him when he had nightmares when he was nine, so he had to be brave now. Bravery was difficult, though, when invisible monsters lurked about the room with white-hot knives and his father's smile.

_It's because of Mariku. Because he made me remember. _But that was blaming the wrong person, or rather, the wrong part of himself. It was his own weakness that led him to drink that poison. In fact, he probably would have died a long time ago if it weren't for Mariku. There were times in his childhood when he'd come so close to ending his life, but what invariably followed those memories was a strange haziness, a disembodied feeling. Now he suspected Mariku had influenced him from the recesses of their mind, forcing him away from suicide. _If my only strength comes from my insanity, what do I really have? _Malik thought helplessly.

Eventually, exhaustion carried him to sleep. But nightmares kept rest at bay; all night long he was tortured, chased, pinned, killed, over and over and over so that when dawn woke him, his face was wet with tears.

/.../

**A/N: I wanted this chapter to be longer, but it wouldn't listen to me. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews last time I updated!**

**With any luck, the first real hints of bronzeshipping will soon emerge... But they're too fickle to know for sure. Sigh...**


	7. You Should Thank the Gods

**Chapter Seven: You Should Thank the Gods**

"Malik's birthday is Christmas Eve, right?"

"There's no way he told you that. He hates his birthday."

"I think he did." Ryou finished painting the eyes on a figurine and laid it on the table to dry. "I mean, it's in my memories, so maybe he told Bakura." Unpleasant as it was to give his own name to the spirit, it seemed to be what Malik and Mariku called him.

"Why would he do that? To him, birthdays are nothing to celebrate. I think Christmas Eve is great, though," he smirked. "After all, I was born then, too."

"I see." Dipping his brush into a wine-red color, Ryou reached for another wooden figurine to paint. He was finally settling back into his old hobby, able to separate it from some of his worst memories. "Well, it's just a month until then. Maybe I can do something to make it a good day for him."

"Why are you so obsessed with making him happy?" Mariku slammed his palms down on the table and leaned over to sneer in Ryou's face. "And I just said twice that it's my birthday, too. Are you going to forget about me?"

The pure rage wafting off Mariku startled Ryou. He hadn't seen him this angry since his early days living with Malik, not even that night he'd nearly strangled his other half. "I didn't mean it to sound like that. Of course it would be for both of you-"

"Forget it, why the hell would I want a _party_?" Mariku snatched up the figurine of a maroon-cloaked wizard and snapped it between his fingers. He hurled the remnants at the wall before threatening, "Don't bring it up again, or I'll break more than your toys."

Mariku stormed out of Ryou's apartment and locked himself in Malik's bedroom. The scent of his other permeated it and it sickened him. He ripped one pillow apart and sent the rest flying into the far corners of the room. "Malik, you're _killing _us," he growled, hunching over the side of the bed and balling his fists.

For two weeks, Malik hadn't slept through the night. The intensity and frequency of his nightmares kept traveling unbidden along their mind link and preventing Mariku from resting as well. During the day, Malik pretended to be fine, but he couldn't hide his mental exhaustion from Mariku, especially since it was affecting him almost as much. He was ready to break Ryou's neck at the slightest infraction just to make himself feel better, but he doubted that would ease Malik's nightmares. He had to figure out something, because this fatigue was torture.

* * *

Malik kept his face free from dismay as his boss sighed and said what he'd known was coming. "Malik, I'm sorry, but we have no choice. We're going to have to let you go."

"...I understand." Malik wasn't going to beg him to reconsider, of course, though maybe if he had his Rod... Then again, he wasn't sure that he'd be able to use it at the moment. Having suffered from insomnia most of his life, he was no stranger to going without sleep, but to have such an extended episode was keeping him from functioning at all. He'd been caught drifting off in the lounge for the third time that week. It was a miracle it had taken this long for him to be fired.

Without waiting for a dismissal, he left the office, gathered his things, and trudged home. His sleep-deprived mind was yelling at him for his failure, reminding him that he didn't have enough money to support himself let alone Mariku. He couldn't just rely on Ryou, but returning to Egypt wasn't an option with Mariku around.

His darker half was waiting for him in the lobby, leaning by the elevator and watching a couple of children playing nearby with distaste. When he spotted Malik, he jabbed the elevator and stepped inside with him.

"Have a good day?" he asked sarcastically.

"Aside from getting fired, it was wonderful," Malik replied.

"Great, because mine's been terrible. What the fuck's your problem lately?"

"Nothing. Mind your own business."

"That's exactly what I'm doing."

Malik suppressed a shiver at the hatred coating his words. "I'm not in the mood for this." The elevator reached their floor. As soon as Malik stepped off it, Mariku grabbed him and shoved him against the wall.

"I don't care what you're in the mood for. Get in the apartment, go to bed, and _sleep_."

"Let go of me!"

"Only if you say you'll go to sleep now."

Malik pried Mariku's hand from his arm and stepped aside. "I'll sleep when I want to." _Or the moment it's possible._

The added stress of losing his job caused Malik's sleep to become even worse. Neither he nor Mariku left the apartment for three days, ignoring Ryou's calls and knocks. Malik barely came out of his room, but he still didn't sleep. Mariku paced around, trying to keep himself from knocking Malik out. That would be extreme, but his other idea seemed even more so. He didn't want to do it, but after seventy-two hours without even a moment of sleep, he gave in.

The first step wouldn't be hard. After all, it wouldn't be the first time he'd visited Malik's soul room. Before Malik's bond with Rishid gained enough power to stop Mariku from emerging from his small pocket in their shared mind, Mariku had often visited the soul room of his other.

* * *

When he was first born, during the initiation ceremony, his senses were only vaguely established and his thoughts were incomplete. In this developing form, he was drawn to the source of his birth, the raging emotions Malik held inside. He found himself, a mere shadow, in Malik's soul room and watched as Malik tossed and turned on an old pallet in the center of the otherwise bare room that remarkably resembled his actual living quarters. Malik murmured over and over, "He should die... I want him to die... _I want you to die, Father!_"

Those words solidified Mariku's existence. Hatred poured into his being and he was given direction. He would kill their father; it was the perfect, most desirable course of action.

Still, it would be a long time before he could accomplish it. He kept visiting his creator and realized Malik didn't know about him. Mariku would lean over his bed and watch with amusement the tortured expressions flicker across Malik's face night after night.

Most of the time, Mariku stayed in his own room, though it wasn't a proper soul room since they shared a single soul. He didn't sleep, but he did drift towards unconsciousness, and during one of these periods, he felt uncharacteristic happiness surge through their mind, bringing him to attention. Everything looked so strange. Mariku realized they were outside, a place Malik had always dreamed of going before accepting with misery that he never could. Mariku didn't care for his daydreaming, but he loved the horrible feelings of entrapment that inevitably followed; they enlivened him. It seemed, however, that Malik's wish had come true. Mariku hissed and gritted his teeth and avoided looking through Malik's eyes at the disturbingly bright surface world. He remained in tight ball until apprehension replaced every shred of the joy Malik had been experiencing. He peered outward and saw Malik run through the halls of the tomb until he found Rishid, bound and bleeding on the floor.

"Malik-sama..." Rishid grunted out in that insufferable, raspy voice of his before succumbing to darkness. Mariku watched him collapse with glee and immediately began pressing against the walls of his and Malik's mind. It was that damn Rishid that kept him confined, with his tattoos that made him an ally of Malik, and now he was gone! Malik's hands flew to his head, as though holding it could hold his dark nature back. But Mariku, for the first time, was able to seize control of their body.

Killing their father was so easy.

But then, Rishid turned out to be alive, and with one glance Mariku lost control and Malik reemerged, confused.

Mariku was in a foul mood that night when he went to visit Malik.

"I can do everything better than you. I can do everything you dream of, here in this room. If you would just stay asleep, I could take care of everything. I could destroy everything..."

Malik's body shuddered below him on the pallet. "Father... Pharaoh..."

"Hmm, you don't even thank me before giving me my next task?" Mariku laughed and the sound echoed powerfully in the emptiness. "I suppose I'll still accept."

To his surprise, Malik's eyes opened. He never woke up during Mariku's visits. Sleepy violet eyes scanned the room before fixating on Mariku's face. "Am I... dreaming?" Mariku stood motionless as Malik got out of bed and stood before him: the original and the mirrored. With Malik's hair messy from lying down, it almost matched Mariku's natural wild style, and otherwise they were identical, even in dress.

There was, however, one hidden difference. When Malik asked, "Are you me?" Mariku smirked and turned, pulling the top of his robe down to reveal an unmarred back. "No, I am what you wish you could be."

That must have jolted Malik awake, for he disappeared from the soul room, and if he ever thought of the dream again, he must have dismissed the possibility that it had been more than a vivid nightmare.

So Mariku lived. Mariku waited. He once more took over their body and dueled against the Pharaoh that Malik, and therefore he, hated.

Mariku died-

* * *

-very nearly. Now he was back at the entrance to Malik's soul room, over five years later, and instead of feeding off the pain Malik exuded as he dreamed, he had to end it.

No, this was not how it was supposed to be at all.

His soul room had changed, Mariku discovered. It was no longer bare and dim with the walls of a tomb. In one corner was the motorcycle he'd cherished. In another, various reminders of his older siblings: a whistle Rishid had carved for him when he was young- his father had disposed of it, but here it was, recreated in Malik's mind- the necklace Malik had bought Ishizu as a gift, to replace the Millennium Tauk she'd grown so accustomed to wearing, and finally a large picture of the three of them. Malik was frowning in the picture, as if trying to figure out how a tiny black box was supposed to produce a lifelike image of them; Rishid was glancing at Malik to see what was wrong; and Ishizu alone was smiling at the camera. It was a terrible picture, really, but Malik clearly treasured it.

Half the room was still in darkness. Mariku could hear snakes slithering on stone and hissing loudly. The cracks of whips and what Mariku recognized as echoes of his own insane laughter joined the reptilian chorus.

In the center was a lavish bed, with silk sheets and embroidered pillow cases, all the fine things Malik had fallen in love with since leaving the tomb. The blanket was partially covering Malik and partially on the floor, and Malik's dark skin was shining with sweat.

Mariku perched beside him and glared down with distaste. The things he feared were long gone, mostly thanks to Mariku's intervention. There was no longer a father to abuse him and his siblings, and Malik's apartment was far-removed from snakes and claustrophobic darkness. And yet, he was unable to let go of the past, unable to feel at peace at night.

The dark was where Mariku thrived. He had no idea how to comfort his weak counterpart in his fear of it, and now that he was next to him the idea seemed more unappealing than ever. Malik had created him because he wasn't strong enough to cope with reality, and even now that his reality had drastically changed, it appeared he needed the strength of his dark side.

Exhaustion was seeping the last of Mariku's willpower to disappear from this soul room and return to his own mind. If these sleepless nights kept up, he'd become as pathetic as Malik. Tentatively, he raised a hand and brushed Malik's hair out of his face. He'd learned from watching television one day that some humans liked to be comforted by having their backs rubbed, but obviously that would do nothing beneficial for Malik, so Mariku kept stiffly stroking his hair. He tried to be gentle, but for him to be gentle would take a miracle, so he settled for not being violent. He slipped his fingers through the strands, petting Malik's head as he did so.

Malik's hair was soft like fresh snow and as Mariku kept running his fingers through it, he began to respond. His trembling ceased but his breathing remained shallow and erratic. Mariku removed his hand as the intensity of Malik's fear faded a degree, but it shot back up when the contact was gone. Mariku scowled, ripped the cover from the bed, and lay down beside Malik. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled his back against his chest. At first, Malik went rigid, and Mariku wondered if he was going to wake up. He really hoped he would not. Then, Malik relaxed in his hold, his breathing evened, and any lingering negative emotions were sucked into the dark part of the soul room.

Mariku lay still, uneager to undo his progress. Even through the fabric of their shirts, he realized he could feel Malik's many scars, the scars that were the reason Mariku existed. Malik despised his scars, and Mariku despised Malik, and now he was being forced to hold him when he should have been sleeping comfortably in his own bed.

"You're very needy, aren't you?" Mariku muttered, letting his head sink into a pastel-purple pillow. With his arms still wrapped around Malik, he closed his eyes and welcomed blissful darkness.

It was morning. Mariku sat up on the couch, groggy but more rested than he'd been in weeks. He must have fallen asleep in Malik's soul room and his consciousness instinctively returned to its proper body sometime during the night. Mariku had wondered if Malik would stay asleep if he left, but the fact that Mariku had slept through the night indicated that he had.

A few minutes later, Malik emerged from his bedroom, stifling a yawn. He noticed Mariku staring at him inquisitively and commented, "You seem to be in a better mood than usual this morning, though that doesn't mean much."

"I could say the same about you."

Malik nodded to acknowledge the truth of this statement. "I slept well last night. Better than I have in months, actually."

Mariku rose and headed for the kitchen, remarking offhandedly over his shoulder, "Sounds like you should thank the gods."

* * *

**Not gonna lie... Some reviews would be great encouragement for me to continue updating. Especially since the only review I got since the last chapter was some sort of joke/spam/whatever.**


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